


The Return and the Fall

by abigailmaedy



Series: The Snags [1]
Category: Brooklyn Nine-Nine (TV)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Peraltiago, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-14
Updated: 2016-07-14
Packaged: 2018-07-23 22:31:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,197
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7482459
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/abigailmaedy/pseuds/abigailmaedy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jake's return from undercover is met with the murder of a low-level mobster, a case he and Amy are assigned to work together. Jake doesn't like to express his feelings but when everything that happened undercover is weighing so heavily on him, he doesn't have a choice but to lean on Amy as they navigate their first case together in six months. Jake and Amy come to terms with the PTSD that has changed Jake, as well as navigate their budding relationship. </p><p>This is the prequel to Penny For Your Thoughts, but both pieces can be read separately if you so choose. This piece and Penny for Your Thoughts are the two main pieces in The Snags series, but I will add small stories from time to time. Warning: Amy has nightmares where she fears for Jake's life but there are no real major character deaths in the piece . </p><p>Enjoy, and as always, don't be afraid to be a critic!</p><p>Takes places after 1X22</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Return and the Fall

       It was two o’clock in the morning, and Amy was stuck staring at her ceiling. She and Teddy had burned out at around Jake’s three month mark undercover, and she had gotten used to sleeping in the middle of the bed again. She knew that somewhere out there, Jake was in the middle of a raid, and that she would be able to call him in the morning for the first time in six months, but she couldn’t help feeling guilty about not participating. Unfortunately, illness had her on her last twelve hours before she could legally return to work without getting into trouble for potentially infecting everyone with the stomach flu. She groaned, rolling onto her side and dangling a leg off the edge of the mattress. “Come on, come on, come on.” She whispered, squeezing her eyes shut. _Why won’t this dumb brain just shut off?_

 

       She sighed, replaying her last moments with Jake over in her head. _“I don’t know what’s gonna happen on this assignment,” he’d sighed. “And if something bad goes down, I think I’d be pissed at myself if I didn’t say this. I kind of wish something could happen between us, romantic stylez. And I know it can’t,” he’d paused, “Because you’re with Teddy and I’m going under cover and that’s- that’s just how it is.”_

 

       “Alright.” She huffed, sitting up with a groan and climbing out of bed, her bare feet landing on the cool floor with a scrunch of her nose. The one thing she missed about Teddy was his love for area rugs. He’d even insisted on putting one in her room, but had taken it back when they broke up.

 

       She switched on her bedside lamp and squinted through the brightness to grab her phone and glasses off of her nightstand, tiptoeing across her bedroom floor and out to her livingroom, overly large spectacles now resting on her nose. She flicked on the lights as she passed her kitchen and walked to her desk, pulling open the bottom drawer, where yellow legal pads were stacked to the top. She pulled the first one out and opened the top drawer of her desk for a ball-point pen. Like everything in her house, her desk was meticulously organized.

 

       She grabbed the beige blanket her grandma had knitted her off the back of her couch and wrapped herself up, curling her knees to her chest and staring down at the blank notepad. Her tongue was pressed to her lip in concentration as she began to write. “Pros and cons,” She muttered, speaking as she wrote. “To dating Jake.” She sighed down at the title and ripped the piece of paper off the pad, crunching it into a ball and tossing it onto the coffee table. “Pros and cons” she started again. “To telling Jake how I feel.” _Rip, crunch, toss._ “Pros and cons…” She hesitated, groaning. “Okay, new idea.” _Rip, crunch, toss._ “Dear Jake,” She sighed again. “I’ve really missed you.” She resolved that writing all of her feelings out would settle her brain, so she started to construct a letter she was certain he would never read.

 

       She talked about what it was like when he’d first left- how she had pretended she was fine when she was assigned to mentor a new detective that would be switching to the 76th precinct after a probationary period. It wasn’t easy- for one, this kid was sharp and goofy, and he reminded her so much of Jake at times that he would sometimes give her a strange look and she’d realize she’d called him “Peralta” again. He was also a cocky little shit, like Jake, and Amy found herself constantly arguing with him. It made her nostalgic. But, what was really, really hard was when, after a month of working together, he finally did transfer, and she felt like she was saying goodbye to Jake all over. Rosa had had the privilege of peeling seven-drink Amy (the sleeper) off of the grimy floor of Shaw’s bar and driving her home the night her mentee transferred. Amy had woken up to a big glass of orange juice and a bottle of Advil beside a note that read, _Hope you didn’t aspirate. Called you in sick. I get it. Shape up._

 

       She talked about how Teddy could tell that there was nothing he could do to fill the void from Jake’s absence. There wasn’t a call he could run with her, a vacation he could take her on, or a meal he could prepare that would fully distract Amy from how much she missed her partner and friend. To be honest, she missed him most when she was with Teddy and it wasn’t until Teddy had apologized, packed what little stuff he’d had at Amy’s apartment, and left for the last time that she realized the reason Teddy made her miss Jake so much was that he just _so wasn’t Jake._ Amy wished she’d realized how she felt before Jake was walking away on a potentially fatal six-month operation. She wished that when he’d said, “ _I kind of wish something could happen between us.”_ that she had said, “ _Me too.”_ instead of standing there with her mouth open, idiotic Santiago style.

 

       She talked about these nightmares she would have, where she’d wake up sobbing, these horribly loud, violent wales piercing her otherwise silent apartment. It would take lying in the fetal position, clutching her sheets and rocking back and forth to calm herself, because there was no way of knowing if the nightmares she was having were accurate, or if they would ever be. She’d dream she’d received a phone call, and that when she’d answer, it would be Holt, telling her he’d just found out, that he was sorry, that the operation had gone sideways. He’d tell her that Jake was made and that Leo Iannucci had shown no mercy. That was the most common dream. There was another one, a worse one, where she was in a warehouse. At first, she would think she was alone, but then Jake would appear, pulling up in his Mustang, accompanied by a set of unfamiliar faces (criminals, she would realize, whose mugshots were etched into her brain). Amy would hide and watch, only to be horrified when Jake’s hands flew up defensively and Leo Iannucci’s voice echoed through the warehouse. _“I think you’re lyin’ to me, Jakey! I think you’re a fucking rat and you know what we do to rats!”_  and Amy would watch, paralyzed, as Jake Peralta was shot in the head.

 

       Amy was used to having nightmares. She’d been having them since she was in high school, for a variety of reasons ( _A story for another time, or maybe never,_ she would think, when the idea of Jake learning all of her secrets popped into her head and scared the shit out of her), but as an adult her restless nights were mainly due to high anxiety and the job-related PTSD that every cop, firefighter, and paramedic eventually develops. Despite all of her experiences with these kinds of shitty dreams, Amy could say with certainty that the dreams she had while Jake was undercover were easily the worst. The times when Teddy had woken to her strangled panic, he’d had no idea how to help.

 

       Amy talked about how Jake made her a better detective, whether she liked it or not. She talked about her arrest numbers dropping when he wasn’t there to help her and how he hoped if the situation was ever reversed, that the same would be true for his, as bitter as that was. She and Jake were a great team because they balanced each other out, and without anybody else at the precinct capable of doing that, her work suffered. She talked about how if she was ever going to make captain, she needed Jake back so she could keep learning from him.

 

       Finally, she talked about the squad. Everyone had experienced Jake’s absence differently. Hitchcock and Scully were oblivious, to nobody’s surprise. But, nobody else was just _okay_ with him being gone. Charles was more clingy than he had ever been before and while Amy realized it was because he was dreading the moments alone that he could be spending with Jake, she still had to suppress the urge to punch him in the throat when he hovered at her desk, or worse, occupied the one across from her. Holt seemed bored without anybody to argue with, lonely in a way. It occurred to Amy that this was probably the first time in his career that he truly had no opposition, and that he didn’t know what to do with all of the time he would usually be spending fighting someone (Jake, homophobes, whoever). Gina was a special kind of mess. She was too quiet and withdrawn and it really freaked everyone out. Not that she didn’t laugh too loudly when she did, or play inappropriate music, or blatantly ignore the work she had to be doing. It was just that sometimes she would wear the same shirt three days in a row, or wouldn’t jump on the opportunity to make fun of Scully. Sometimes, you could catch her staring at Jake’s desk with a kind of sadness in her face and Amy knew that for Gina, it wasn’t just a childhood friend who was gone, it was practically her brother. Rosa was nicer than usual, which was horrifying on its own and truly needed no further investigation. And Terry was binge-eating yogurts like the dairy apocalypse was impending. The squad was just missing a piece and things were a little broken down.

 

       Amy heaved a shaky breath, wiping at her burning eyes and closing the legal pad which was now three pages full with her thoughts. She looked around her empty apartment, fatigue finally setting in to a measurable degree, and rose to her feet, tossing the legal pad and pen on her desk and heading back to her room. _Just a few more hours. Just a few._

 

       She didn’t fall asleep immediately, but eventually her brain drifted into thoughts of what Jake would be like when he returned and before she knew it, she was dreaming.

 

_________________________________

 

       Amy’s nerves were buzzing when she awoke in the morning. Sunlight was hitting her bed and her alarm was blaring, but it occurred to her only after a moment of assessing her surroundings that neither had been what roused her. Somebody was knocking incessantly on her door. With a huff, she shut off her alarm and climbed out of bed. “Coming!” she called, the knocks persisting. “Be a little patient, I’m coming!” she called again, groaning and swinging the door open, immediately frozen in her tracks.

 

       “‘Be a little patient, I’m coming’. Title of your sex tape.” A floppy haired, wide-smiling mess stood at her threshold, badge dangling from his neck. “Hey Ames.” Jake grinned, eyes soft and dark. He had a nearly-faded bruise above his left cheek and a split in the corner of his lower lip. “How are things?” he asked in that drawn out way of his, stepping up to hug her.

       “Oh my god. Jake.” It came out in a whisper and she allowed him to wrap her up in his arms, wrapping her own around the back of his neck and snapping out of what felt like a trance when her fingers brushed against his unusually long hair and the press of his chest against hers became mentally tangible. “You’re home!” She squealed, a new bout of energy hitting her like a train. She jumped up to wrap her legs around his hips, burying her face in the nape of his neck. “You’re okay!” She couldn’t help the burning in her eyes or the way her face contorted as she suppressed a sob. Jake, caught off balance by her sudden koala-like attachment to his torso, stumbled forward with a breathless laugh, catching himself on her door frame and stepping into the apartment, shutting the front door behind him. _Dammit_ , was the only thought to cross her mind as the dam broke and she began to sob, wrapping herself tighter around him.

 

       “I’m home, Ames. It’s okay.” He chuckled, walking across her living room with her still in his arms, and sat down on her couch. She didn’t move at first, only took in his new smell, which was practically the same as his old one, if not a little cleaner, and let her fingers run up into his hair. She hadn’t expected it to be this curly. Finally, with a deep breath and a quick swipe across her eyes, she pulled away to look at his face. His smile lines were still there and his eyes were still kind. “I really, really missed you.” He said.

 

       “I missed you too, so much.” She confessed, blushing slightly. “The precinct is way better when you’re there.”

 

       “I kept telling you guys that I’m the life of the squad.” He teased, earning a pinch from Amy.

 

       “How did you like being undercover? How did the raid go last night?” She asked, “Oh, I’m sorry I couldn’t be there. I was sick.”

 

       Jake’s brows furrowed and he pulled back. “Ew, with what?”

 

       She laughed, “Nothing! I had a stomach bug but I’m fine now. Now, tell me everything! Were you a badass undercover agent?”

 

       Jake’s eyes dimmed a bit but he held his smile. “It was really good! Yeah…” He stared down at his lap. “Very cop-movie. I just… It was harder than I thought it would be to be away from everyone and there’s a lot of really bad stuff that you see when your best friend for six months is a kingpin.” Jake cleared his throat.

 

       Amy nodded, “I understand. You don’t… I mean, we don’t have to talk about it. I’m just glad you’re back!” She climbed off of his lap, pulling her knees to her chest and pressing her side against the couch to continue facing him. “When do you start back at work?”

 

       Jake’s smile was back for real, that excitement in his eyes again. “Monday. My psych eval and briefing was all last night, so I just have the weekend and then I can go back on rotation.”  


_Three days._ “Have you slept at all?” Amy asked, “What time did you get done?”

 

       Jake shrugged, “I’m not really tired. I’m just pumped to be home and I was really excited to see you.” He stared at her a minute and she just stared back. “Amy-”

 

       “Jake-” They both chuckled, their words overlapping. “Jake, do you want to have breakfast?” _Do you want to make out?_

 

       “God yes.” He said, patting his stomach. “But only if you aren’t cooking.”

 

       She crinkled her nose, punching his arm and rising to her feet. “Whatever, my food isn’t that bad. I’m just gonna take a shower and we can go somewhere more tuned to your delicate tastebuds. There’s stuff for coffee in the kitchen.” She offered, walking off with a smile.

 

       She didn’t want to waste too much time getting ready, but as soon as she was under the spray of the shower a new flood of emotions swept over her and she couldn’t help the combination of breathless laughter and sobbing that rippled through her. _He’s finally safe._ She could finally tell him how she felt. She resolved to extend her prep time to settle her nerves and sat in the empty tub, grabbing her razor and shaving cream and going to town on her legs. She realized, about halfway through the second leg, that enough time had passed that maybe Jake wasn’t interested in her anymore. It didn’t quite matter. As long as they were partners and she could see him by her side, safe and smiling, or at least in no more danger than she was, then maybe ( _maybe)_ it could be enough.

 

       She washed her hair, face, and body with all of the strawberry scents she’d been using since the squad had agreed they smelled better than her lavender display, and climbed out, wrapping a towel around herself and exchanging the warmth of the bathroom for her chilly bedroom. She tiptoed across the floor, cursing her lack of a rug once again, and rummaged anxiously through her drawers before remembering that she could wear literally anything and Jake wouldn’t care. _Take a deep breath and stop trying to impress him._

 

       She settled on a pair of jeans and a sensible top, slipping into her new attire, towel-drying her hair (permittable by her standards only on weekends), and throwing it up into a messy bun. After searching through her color coordinated closet for her favorite jacket and throwing on a pair of flats, she grabbed her cell phone and glasses, too lazy at the moment for contacts. She had the next few days off and she was going to relish in the freedom and comfort of not having to worry about anything, even Jake.

 

       But, as soon as she exited the bedroom, all of her calm was plucked away. Jake was sitting on the couch, yellow legal pad in-hand, and was just finishing the last page of what Amy had written the night before, when she approached him. “Jake, that wasn’t meant-”

 

       Jake looked up at her, closing the notepad. She had seen Jake a lot of ways- happy, angry, resentful, and even a little sad. But she had never seen him _cry._ Not real, actual tears. But when he put down the letter and looked up at her, his always-soft eyes were filmed with wetness and pinking at the whites. His lips were pressed together in a line that broke with a shy laugh. He blinked and then wiped escaped tears from his cheeks (Amy noted scars on his knuckles), standing up and walking around the couch until he was right in front of her. “I’m sorry about Teddy.” He said.

 

       “Oh-” She gaped, “I mean-”

 

       “And I’m sorry you had nightmares. I have nightmares.” He confessed, surprising the both of them and smiling sheepishly at her. “They’re no bueno.”

 

       “I really didn’t mean for you to see that, Jake. I’m sorry. It’s just, I couldn’t sleep last night, and I couldn’t shut my brain off, and I just-” But before she could finish, he had his hands on her hips and hers were wrapped around his neck, and his forehead was pressed against hers. His breath was hot on her lips, and then he was kissing her, pulling her close to him and her glasses kind of squishing between their faces.

 

       “You’re bug goggles are really in the way of this romantic moment,” he whispered, smiling against her lips.

 

       “I- I-” She was breathless, excited, and terrified. She had been waiting for this for too long. “I was so afraid I was never going to see you again.”

 

       “I know.” He whispered, “Me too.”

 

       “Do you… Do you want to talk over food?” she managed, pulling away and readjusting her glasses.

 

       His hands were still on her hips and he nodded down at her. “Lead the way, Santiago.”

 

_______________________________________

 

       There was a little twenty-four hour diner down the street from Amy’s, which she’d frequented for years. “Ah, yes, a crappy diner with bad lighting. The heart of the NYPD.” Jake chirped, pulling the door open for her. They entered and were instructed to sit wherever, the restaurant more full than she was used to seeing it (likely because it wasn’t three o’clock in the morning this time.)

 

       Jake and Amy found as secluded a booth as possible and sat across from each other, feet bumping together. “I’m still sorry that you read that letter, Jake. I didn’t mean to upset you.” Amy finally said, staring up from the menu she’d been reading.

 

       Jake’s brows furrowed and caught her in a stare. “Wait, what?” He shook his head, “I wasn’t upset with you. I was sad that I’d missed so much.” He offered her a soft smile.

 

       “Oh,” her eyes went wide.

 

       Jake shrugged, “It’s nice… To know you guys cared so much, I mean. I guess I sorta thought I was a nuisance.”

 

       “Oh, you are.” She assured, reaching for his hand and earning a little gulp from him when she grabbed it. “But we all missed you, Jake.”

 

       “It sounds like Holt was just bored.”

 

       Amy rolled her eyes. “No, he was sad too, trust me. Everyone was. Not to mention Gina.”

 

       “Gina’s like my sister. I was worried about her when I was gone.” He admitted.

 

       They were still holding hands when the waitress arrived and took their orders in what was clearly a retail voice, because nobody, not even Amy, is that chirpy in the morning. She and Jake detached with awkward coughs and hesitation, chatting casually with the waitress and then sighing with relief when she was gone.

 

       “So, about back at the apartment…” Jake started. “I’m not gonna lie because I’ve been waiting for six months and I just- I really like you. I still really like you and I wanna give things a shot.” He smiled sheepishly and she smiled back.

 

       “I do, too.” She watched his eyes flicker.

 

       “Full disclosure,” He added, swallowing and pressing his palms together, massaging his right hand with his left, twisting like he was crushing something between them. “I’m not going to be easy for awhile. I have a lot that I’m messed up about. I’m not totally… The same.”

 

       Amy gave him as soft a smile as she could, brows furrowed slightly. “I’m not saying I want to date Jake the goofball. I’m saying I want to date _you_ , Jake. Which also means Jake the guy who can’t always say what he’s feeling, and who gets overly emotional about things and tries to hide it by being there class clown. I want to be there for all of it, because you’re my partner and my best friend and I really care about you. So… Yeah.” She looked down at her lap.

 

       “Wow Santiago,” he breathed. “I didn’t realize you were so mushy.”

 

       She shot him a playful glare, “There we go with the class clown.”

 

       Jake smiled at that. “So, we’re going to try this thing?”

 

       She nodded, “Let’s do it.”

 

       “And we’ll take it slow.”

 

       “Obviously that’s the smartest choice.”

 

____________________________________________

 

       They did not take it slow. It happened by accident, sort of. They went back to Amy’s apartment after breakfast, Jake still wearing his badge around his neck. She realized that he wasn’t wearing it for any real reason- he had just missed it. When they got into the apartment, they looked around absently and Amy offered to put on a movie. “My TV is in my room.” She mused, staring at the bedroom door. “When was the last time you watched Die Hard?” She asked, earning a face-splitting grin from Jake.

 

      Turned out, the last time Jake had seen Die Hard was now going to be however long it had already been, plus a day, because Amy’s DVD player was _not_ cooperating. After probably more time than was necessary spent on YouTube and reading the manual that she still had (nerd), she still had no idea how to fix it and so flopped angrily onto her bed beside Jake, who was smiling down at her, his smile outlined by all of his laugh creases. She’d always really liked those, she realized. They made his happiness look more authentic. “It’s okay, maybe we can watch it tomorrow at my place, if you want.” He offered.

 

       She sighed, “I just bought this stupid thing like a month ago!” she waved towards the DVD player in frustration.

 

       “Hey Ames, guess what.” Jake said, his smile shifting from one of reassurance to one of mischief.

 

       Amy raised a brow, hesitating. “What?” Before she could react, her shirt was up, belly exposed, and Jake was blowing fart noises into it like a second grader. Amy erupted into a fit of laughter, her hands tangling into Jake’s hair and her knees tucking instinctively towards her chest. Jake had one hand on her legs and another on her shoulder, keeping her as pinned as he could while he assaulted her with little kisses and raspberries. “Jake!” She squealed, laughing harder. “You’re going to make me pee myself!”

 

       Jake made something between a chuckle and a snort, letting go of her shoulder and knees and readjusting so that his right leg was between her two and his hands were on either side of her waist. He exchanged tickling for making a soft trail of kisses and gentle nips from her bellybutton to the side of her ribs. “Oh.” She whispered. Amy looked around, a flutter in her chest, and then glanced at Jake, who was too busy with the task at hand to notice her observing him. She felt her hands begin to shake and pushed them deeper into his curls, closing her eyes and trying relax. _This is Jake. He’s big, and he’s strong, and he’s got all the power, but he’s Jake._

 

       He smiled into her skin and she gasped as he took the bottom of her shirt in his teeth and pulled it up until her bra was exposed. She let go of his hair and raised her arms up, allowing Jake to pull off the blouse while suckling a hickey into the top of her left breast. Her breathing had begun to hitch and he stopped, brows furrowed, shirt dropping to the floor. “You good?” he asked, scanning her face for discomfort.

 

       She bit her lip, heart racing at ten thousand miles per hour and face flushed with heat. _Don’t do this right now, don’t do this right now. It’s Jake. It’s Jake Peralta. Just take control of the situation and calm the fuck down._ “Is it okay if… I mean, I have this thing...” She took a deep breath and he climbed off of her, sitting on his own legs. “Can I be on top for awhile?” she finally managed, propping herself up on her elbows. “Just sometimes, I feel trapped, and-”

 

       “Oh.” His eyebrows perked, “Yeah, duh.” He grabbed her by the hips and flipped them around so that his back was to the mattress and she was straddling him. “You don’t have to be scared to tell me what you need, Ames.” He shrugged, smiling reassuringly up at her and running his hands up and down her exposed sides. “And if you don’t want to do this right now-”

 

       “Oh no,” Amy assured, leaning over Jake so that her hair hung loosely down and created curtains between them and their surroundings. “I want to.” She pressed her lips against his and his hands moved to the small of her back. “I just get scared sometimes?” It came out more like a question than she’d intended and he kissed her forehead.

 

       “Is there like, a story behind that, or…?” He was watching her face, eyes wide.

 

       “Maybe for another time. There’s something else I’d like to do right now.” She whispered, pressing their lips together again, unaware of how stiff she’d been until Jake kissed her back with a nod and dragged his nails gently up her spine. _Crisis averted._ She ran her hands down his chest to the bottom of his tee and before she could start playing at it, he sat upright and practically tore it off, grinning like an idiot and continuing to kiss her. She broke away from his kiss and took him in. She had, obviously, seen him shirtless before (sometimes bad guys vomit on people), but his body had changed since then. He was a little bit leaner, and she noticed an array of scars that had never been there before- some small, some unavoidably large, all over his torso, and she assumed his back as well. _Oh, Jake._ When she ran her fingers down his bare chest, inspecting every inch of him, she stumbled across a splash of bruises littering his right ribcage at an angle. “Are- Do you have a broken rib?”  


       “Oh,” Jake shrugged, “No, don’t worry. It’s not broken, just severely bruised.” He waved her off with a little shake of his head, “It doesn’t really bother me.”

 

       “I _jumped_ on you when you got to my house this morning!” She exclaimed, pressing her fingers lightly against the purplish skin and wincing at Jake’s grimace. “Sorry.”

 

       “It’s all part of the job.” He smiled, pulling her face back towards his. _Okay, conversation over. Understood._ She allowed herself to ease back into the moment, trying her best not to be distracted by every little bump and scratch her fingers happened to find. _Is that a cigarette burn? Jesus._ Jake laid back flat on the bed and Amy pressed her chest against his, an embarrassing little gasp stumbling out as he unclasped her bra and slid the straps down her arms. She let him take it off, too, and it landed on the floor in the growing heap of clothes. Jake’s hands became more eager the more of her he was exposed to, and soon he had her waistband in his grips and was tugging her pants and underwear off in one go, stopping at her thighs. She squeaked as his long fingers trailed down from her tummy to between her legs.

 

       She was warm, wet, and no longer nervous. “Okay,” she muttered lazily into his lips. “I’m definitely okay switching back to bottom again.” He nodded, a grin playing against her mouth as he flipped them both the other way, so that he hovered over her, no longer like something bigger and stronger that she needed to analyze, but truly just as Jake, who she had trusted with her life for years. He pulled her jeans the rest of the way off, followed by his own, and she smiled sheepishly at what definitely _was_ a brand new experience. She reached down and began to stroke him, giggling at the way his face slacked and head lulled. He smirked at the sound and crawled forward, scooping her hips up over his thighs and leaning back with a hand on her stomach, pushing himself into her with a strangled moan. “Oh jesus!” she cried, gripping his forearm and pressing the side of her face into the pillow as her stomach clenched with pleasure.

 

       Jake laughed breathlessly and began to pump, the hand on her stomach moving to her hip so he could gain more control while the left was busy between her legs, rubbing her as he rolled his hips. “I’ve been,” he gasped. “Imagining this for months.” He groaned as she jerked her hips and he was able to push in even deeper. “Holy fuck.”

 

       Amy had Jake’s left forearm in a vice grip and was failing to suppress screams of pleasure via biting her lip. “Oh my god, Jake.” She whimpered, jerking her hips again (it was honestly involuntary) and shivering at his moan. He leaned forward, his left hand grazing her breast and then cupping the side of her face. She pressed into it with a sigh, kissing his palm and reaching up with her free hand to touch his chest. There was a warmth growing in her belly and she began to squirm, her moans deepening and eyes squeezing shut. “Oh god- I’m-” she was wordless, breathless, her thighs squeezing against Jake’s sides and face contorting as the pleasure built up and then released all at once, nothing more than a shrill, quick squeak escaping her.

 

       She felt limp, noodle-ish, and was only vaguely aware that Jake had picked up speed and was riding her to finish. He groaned at the last minute, pulling out and cumming on her belly with a breathless laugh and an apology. “I’ll find something to clean up.” He muttered, breathing heavy and grinning. She watched him glide across the bedroom to her bathroom and the fog in her mind gave way to the shock that poured through her system at what looked like whip lashes on Jake’s back. “Jesus fucking-”

 

       “Hmm?” Jake asked, returning with a smile and a roll of toilet paper. She’d forgotten just how much he smiled.

 

       “N- Nothing. That was just amazing.” She took a wad of toilet paper from him and he helped her wipe off her stomach.

 

       “Belly button pool.” He snorted, earning an eye roll. “So,” Jake tossed the used paper into the trash bin beside her bed and flopped down beside Amy, pulling her into his arms and kissing her sweaty temple. “That wasn’t very slow of us.”

 

       “Yeah well, some rules are meant to be broken.” She said, laughing at his gawk.

 

       “Amy _Santiago_ , rule follower extraordinaire, are you feeling okay?” He pressed a hand to her forehead and she swatted it away.

 

       “Hey don’t you make fun of me, Mr. Moaner.”

 

       Jake scoffed, “Excuse me I am a _man._ I moan with pride, dignity, and uncontrollable horniness.”

 

       “That’s the title of _your_ sex tape.” Amy kissed his cheek and he pulled her in tighter, his back shaking with laughter.

 

       After the laughter died down and they became settled, a wave of drowsiness washed over Amy, who hadn’t gotten much sleep over the last twenty-four hours, let alone six months, and Jake began to stroke her hair. “Hey Amy?”

 

       “Yeah?” She whispered, her voice thick with impending slumber.

 

       “I promise I’ll tell you about all of it eventually.” He kept brushing through her hair with his fingers and she patted his shoulder, eyes heavy.

 

       “Take your time Jake. I’m just happy you’re here.”

 

       “Me too, Santiago,” was the last thing she heard.

 

_________________________________

 

       By the time Monday rolled around, Amy almost wasn’t scared to wake up and find him gone anymore. He hadn’t spent the night yet, she thought maybe because of nightmare shame or because he really was trying to take it slow, and when they met at the precinct that morning, she knew she was right about the former. He was smiling and excited to see everyone, telling a few funny stories about his time undercover, unable to shake Charles for more than three minutes and more than happy to perform what had to be an at least seven minute long secret handshake with Gina. But, bags hung beneath his eyes and he plopped a large coffee down on his desk before easing into his chair with a yawn, once the excitement had finally died. “Get much sleep?” Amy asked, eyeing her partner.

 

       He shrugged. “Sleep is for the weak and I have coffee.”

 

       Amy sighed, about to suggest he come over for a nap after work when Holt called the two of them into his office.

 

       “It’s very nice to have you back, Peralta.” Holt shook his hand.

 

       “Thank you, sir.” Jake grinned, badge around his neck and hair only slightly less disheveled than it had been when he showed up on Amy’s doorstep.

 

       “I have a case for the two of you, a body in a warehouse up on 4th.” Holt handed Jake the file which he opened and scanned before handing to Amy. “I want to confirm with you that you’re feeling up for this, Jake. You aren’t required to be back in rotation yet-”

 

       “Sir, I swear I’m fine. I’m ready to get back out there. Besides, I’ve got Amy to back me up!” He elbowed her and she smiled sheepishly.

 

       “We’ve got this, Captain.” She assured.

 

       Holt nodded, “Alright. Let the officers on scene brief you when you arrive. Crime techs have been there a couple of hours and should be finishing up.”

 

       Jake and Amy nodded, exchanging eager glances and leaving.

________________________________

 

       The body was found in a storage warehouse, boxes, shipping containers, and sealed crates filling the building. The NYPD had been there more than a dozen times to search units or raid for drugs, but they had never discovered a body before. “The officer’s heading out. She found the body during patrol and called it in. M.E. estimates time of death was about six hours ago but the coroner’s picking up the body in a few minutes and taking it back to the morgue for an autopsy. We’ll know more after.”  Amy said, reading over her notes as she summarized.

 

       The body was covered with a black tarp and Jake squatted down with a sigh, gripping his own thigh for balance. _His knees are weaker than they used to be._ He pulled the tarp off the man’s face with a moment of hesitation and groaned at the sight underneath.  A shiver ran down Amy’s spine and she looked away. The body definitely belonged to a man. He was tall and broad-shouldered, but, what was once his face was now just the exit sight of a bullet, the pressure of escape having crippled and disfigured what had once been a nose, eyes, mouth and jaw. “He was shot in the back of the head.” Jake managed with gritted teeth.

 

       “Weird that he’s not on his stomach.” Amy muttered, writing in her notepad. Below her, Jake hadn’t made a move, his face steeled and pale and his hands shaking as he stared down at the body. She caught a glance at him and frowned. “Are you okay?” She reached out to touch his shoulder and he flinched away, reeling back.

 

       “I’m fine,” he whispered. “Just- Not a lot- Of air in here. Not a lot- Not a lot- Not a lot- Fuck-” He gasped, hand on his chest. A layer of sweat began to form on his forehead and he jumped to his feet, struggling to pull his jacket off. “It’s too hot!” he practically yelped, startling as Amy grabbed hold of his shoulders and slid his arms from their sleeves. Jake unbuttoned his plaid shirt with shaky fingers, only settling when he was just left wearing a dark blue t-shirt. “I can’t breathe.” He wheezed, crumpling back to the ground, hands on his knees. “I can’t-”

 

       “Peralta, look at me.” Amy dropped to her knees in front of him. “Jake. It’s okay. Look at me right now. Take a deep breath.” Jake was gasping, staring horrified at Amy as she took his hand and pressed it to her chest. “Do what I’m doing.” She commanded, taking slow, steady breaths and motioning for her partner to do the same.

 

       “This is a panic attack,” Jake wheezed. “Fuck, I’m gonna pass out.”

 

       “You’re not gonna pass out. Just keep looking at me. I’m right here with you. I’ve got you.” She stroked his hand and smiled reassuringly as he started to gain control of his breathing. “How often does this happen?” she asked.

 

       Jake shrugged, squeezing his eyes shut and tilting forward until his head rested on Amy’s shoulder. She ran a hand through his hair, continuing to breathe as steadily as she could. “When I was undercover,” he paused, taking a deep, shaky breath. “And I was alone, they would happen a lot.”

 

       “Did you talk about it in your psych eval?” Amy asked, her fingers continuing to stroke his head. Jake nodded after a moment and Amy sighed. “Do you know what triggered this?”

 

       Jake nodded, pulling away and wiping the sweat off of his forehead. He stared at the body lying five feet away from them. “I- I’m sorry. I can’t. ” Jake took another ragged breath, wincing. “It was too recent and I can’t-” Jake took another breath, rubbing his hands down his face. “Amy, I’m sorry. I’m an asshole. I should tell Holt I’m not ready.”

 

       “Do you think that’s true?” Amy asked. “Do you think you aren’t ready? No offense Jake, but you’re always going to have your memories and I don’t think holing yourself up like the Serge did after his incidents is going to make you get over anything.”

 

       “I can’t even look at a body without going crazy.” Jake scoffed.

 

       “Jake, you had a flashback. You panicked. But then you got through it. I’m not going to let you wither away. Now try again, and this time, tell me what you’re thinking and don’t wait until you’re too overwhelmed.” Amy stood up, offering a hand to Jake and bringing him back over to their victim. “Do you have any thoughts?”

 

       Jake stared down at the body with a sigh, grimacing at the disfigured face and rubbing his hands together. “Well you’re right about his position. He should be on his stomach.” Jake pulled the tarp the rest of the way off the corpse, eyeing the surrounding cement. “There’s no blood splatter here. He was moved.”

 

       Amy stared down at the notes she’d taken from her quick briefing with the officer they’d dismissed. “Apparently crime techs have the area marked.” Jake looked at Amy expectantly and she shrugged. “Come on detective, use your skills. You tell me where the body came from.” Jake rolled his eyes, scanning the area for cones. “No, that’s not what I mean. Don’t cheat, Peralta.”

 

       Jake groaned, bending down and examining the body. “There are no drag marks on his clothes so he has to have been carried. He’s a big guy so whoever killed him can’t have done it far from here. Did they find any footprints?”

 

       Amy nodded. “Three distinct sets. They think one was Smith’s, the cop. The others may be the victim and killer. What else?”

 

       Jake scanned the cement until he found what he was looking for. “Here, blood. He was carried from this way.” Jake pointed down towards a set of shipping containers fifty feet away. He walked slowly, pointing out droplets of blood as he went until they arrived between the two shipping containers, where cones were marking what was obviously the kill site. Blood splattered both containers and Jake made a triumphant huff. “Ha!”

 

       Amy smiled. “Nice job, Detective Best-Detective.”

 

__________________________________________

 

       There was silence for the first part of the car ride back to the precinct, until Jake turned to stare at Amy as she drove. “Are you going to tell Holt wat happened?” he asked, brows furrowed.

 

       “That depends.” Amy shrugged. “Are you going to tell me next time you’re feeling unhinged?”

 

       Jake sighed, “Yeah.” She glanced over at him and frowned at his worry lines. _He has those too now._ She hadn’t noticed before. “I’m really sorry, Ames.”

 

       “Hey, you said things were tough. I’m not going anywhere, I just need you to communicate with me.” She took a deep breath, “And you need to sleep.”

 

       Jake groaned, running a hand down his face. “I wake up alone, and I just-”

 

       “Then sleep at my place. At least tonight. You’re not going to scare me off.” Amy reached for his hand and he laced his fingers through hers.

 

       “But you haven’t heard me.”

 

       She shrugged, “If you heard me, do you think you’d walk away?”  


       “Of course not,” Jake scoffed. “But-”

 

       “But nothing, you dummy. It’s the same thing. You’re my friend, and my partner, and my _whatever_ this new thing is, and we need to be able to stick together. The risk of me having a nightmare is equally high but I’ll take it. Okay?” She caressed the back of his hand with her thumb and he nodded in her peripheral.

 

       “But can I bring over my DVD player?” he asked.

 

       “Please do.” She said. “I may or may not have destroyed mine.”

 

       Jake laughed, leaning back in his seat. “How did that happen?”

 

       “Sledgehammer.” She muttered, earning another cackle from her partner.

 

_____________________________________

 

       The case Amy and Jake had been assigned was disappointingly lacking in evidence. Whoever had killed their victim, a low-level mobster by the name of Tommy Gallo, had been thorough about covering his tracks. The cameras for the area picked up nothing but Gallo entering the warehouse alone and the cop who found him hours later, and although Gallo had had a cellphone in-hand in the footage, no phone was recovered at the scene, even after Jake and Amy had doubled back for a second look. The footprints did, in fact, belong to Smith and Gallo, the last pair assumed to be from the killer as predicted. But even that was a dead end for now. They combed through what little information they had on Gallo’s contacts for the better part of the day before discovering he was a CI for a cop named Levi Gordon, who was out of town for a funeral and wouldn’t be home until the next morning. With little else to do for their own case and interviews with Gallo’s limited set of willingly talkative family and friends wrapping up fairly quickly, the two detectives helped Boyle with paperwork for the remaining hour of their shift. They were out the door at six o’clock  and after stopping at Jake’s for his DVD player and getting into a small argument consisting of Amy practically dragging Jake and a spare outfit over to her house as she assured him she wouldn’t be scared off by his nightmares, they were settled in her bed, Amy in cotton pajamas and Jake in a T-shirt and boxers, watching Die Hard.  

 

       The thing, Amy realized, about watching Die Hard with Jake, was that you didn’t actually watch the movie alongside him so much as you watched him watch the movie. He reclined against the headboard, popcorn in a bowl on his lap, and recited every word of the film in time with the characters (which also included off-key humming to dramatic music and hand motions for every explosion or spray of gunfire). He would turn to her occasionally with a shit-eating grin and offer her a handful of popcorn, which he’d doused in melted sugar. “You know this is just kettle korn, right?” Amy asked, grabbing a handful and regretting the stickiness of her fingers for the tenth time.

 

       “This is how my mom used to make it.” Jake grinned, shoving a handful into his own mouth and chewing loudly. “It’s way better this way.”

 

       “That’s because it’s just sugar with some kernels sprinkled in.” Amy made a face, licking at her sticky fingers.

 

       “Exactly.” Jake nodded triumphantly, as if he’d cornered Amy into a win. She rolled her eyes.

 

       After the end of the movie, Jake reached for the sequel and Amy put a hand on his shoulder. He turned to look at her with the smile a little boy gives his mom while he’s reaching for a second helping of dessert and she sighed. “Let’s go to bed, Jake. We have work in the morning.”

 

       After a moment of hesitation, Jake frowned and climbed out of bed, turning off the television and DVD player and walking blindly back. “I can’t believe somebody as organized as you lost the remotes.” The room was dark, a sliver of moonlight filtering through Amy’s window, not nearly enough to silhouette either of the sleepy detectives. Amy listened as Jake’s shirt ruffled and fell to the floor and he slid beneath the blankets, gliding warm fingertips across her belly and snuggling up against her.

 

       “I’m pretty sure Teddy took them when he left.” She whispered. She kissed Jake’s jaw and the side of a smile formed against her lips as he turned to kiss her.

 

       “Petty.” He chuckled.

 

       Amy shrugged. “I’ve been too lazy to get up and turn the tv off, so joke’s on him because I’m all caught up on my shows. Plus reruns of Seinfeld.”

 

       Jake sniffed, which broke into a yawn. “Way to find the bright side.” He drawled, his voice tired. He nuzzled his forehead into the nape of her neck and she sighed as he began to absently run his fingers up and down her forearm. “Night,” he mumbled.

 

       “Goodnight.” She whispered back.

 

________________________________

 

_Amy looked around in confusion. The deafening pounding of her heart was interrupted only by the roar of a car engine as a Mustang pulled into the warehouse she was standing in. She watched from behind several stacks of boxes as Jake stepped out, greeted by two men Amy recognized as criminals in the Iannucci mob. “Wait.” She muttered. “This is a dream.”_

 

_Jake stepped forward and the smaller of the two men began to bark at him about something, poking his chest. Jake threw his hands up and responded with a shaky laugh and a low, calm tone. “I think you’re lying to me, Jakey! I think you’re a fuckin’ rat and you know what we do to rats!” the kingpin yelled._

 

_Amy closed her eyes, jumping as the shot was fired. “It’s a dream, it’s a dream, it’s a dream.”_

 

_Amy had never gotten this far before. Usually, watching Jake die woke her up. She peered through the boxes and watched as his body was left on the cold floor of the warehouse and the men departed. When they were gone, she crept out from her hiding place and made her way towards him, the first time she had been able to move in this dream. Her feet were bare and she realized she was still in her pajamas. She bent down beside Jake’s corpse, a shiver running through her spine as she stared down at him. He was pale and lifeless, his blood staining the concrete, bullet hole in the center of his forehead. “Oh, Jake.” She whispered, her ribs constricting as she knelt down and pressed a hand to his cheek. “I’m so glad you’re home.”_

 

_Jake’s eyes flew open and she yelped as he sat bolt upright, wrapping his arms around her waist and squeezing her against him. “Don’t!” he yelled, “Please don’t go!” Jake began to sob against her collar, tears rolling down and dampening her shirt. “I’m sorry! I’m so sorry! Please!” He cried, squeezing her tighter._

 

_“Jake!” Amy huffed, lungs constricted by his grasp, “Jake- It’s okay! I’m here.”_

 

_“No!” He screamed again._

 

       Amy woke with a start, pain shooting up her back as realization struck her. Jake _was_ gripping onto her, sobbing and yelling, shaking against her frame. “Jesus.” She huffed, loosening his grip on her to the best of her ability and flinching as he cried out again.

 

       “I can’t. Please, I can’t!” Jake wept, brow furrowed under what had become a decent filtering of moonlight into Amy’s window.

 

       “Jake,” Amy pressed her hands to his face, wiping at the tears and grazing over his wobbling lips. “Jake, wake up.” Amy shook his shoulder, her left hand still on his cheek. “Jake-” she whispered, jumping as he cried out, grabbing her arm. She felt his weight shift until he was hovering over her, hands pinning both of her wrists.

 

       Her legs were pinned together by his knees and he was breathing heavily above her, his frame shaking and grips tightening on her. “What-” he paused mid-sentence, releasing her right arm and tentatively reaching to touch her face. “Amy. Fuck. It’s you.” He crumpled into her, her breath leaving in a whoosh as his weight slammed into her. “I’m really sorry. Dammit.” His voice shook. Amy didn’t move, afraid not for herself but for startling the shaking man on top of her.

 

       “Are you okay?” She asked, biting her lip at the pain shooting down both arms, fingers cramping above the wrist he still gripped. Jake didn’t respond, but she could feel him attempting to settle his breaths. “You’re safe, Jake.”

 

       Jake heaved a sigh, letting go of Amy’s other arm. “I can go.” He said, rolling off of her. “I didn’t mean to attack you. I can go if you-”

 

       “You’re not going anywhere. I’m perfectly capable of handling myself.” She turned onto her side, their faces inches apart. “You didn’t scare me.” She assured, grazing his cheek with her thumb. “I promise.” She had been surprised with herself. Perhaps it was fatigue, but when Jake had pinned her down, it wasn’t like anything she had become so easily off put by. It wasn’t sexual. He was just afraid, and all she’d needed to do was calm him.

 

       “Did I hurt you?” he asked, finding her wrists and running his thumbs up her arms, fortunately missing her grimace. “I grabbed you. I thought-” Jake paused. “I’m sorry.”

 

       “Jake,” she said softly. “It’s okay.” She pulled from his grip and laced her fingers through his. “Do you think you can go back to sleep?”

 

       Jake shrugged, lifting his head up to peer over her shoulder at her alarm clock. “I mean it’s five. That’s seven hours of sleep, which is four more than last night.”

 

       “You slept _three hours_ last night?” Amy gawked.

 

       “That’s about the standard. This was like a sleep marathon. Sometimes I go four.”  His teeth were white in the moonlight and she rolled her eyes at his synthetic grin.

 

       “I was on two to four for a while there.” Amy admitted, rolling onto her back and sitting up with a groan.

 

       “Nightmares, man.”

 

       “Yeah,” Amy sighed. “Do you want to talk about yours?”

 

       “Nope.” He yawned, sitting up beside her and leaning against the headboard. “How about you? How’d you sleep?”  


       “Alright I guess. I had a… Well it wasn’t like a normal nightmare. It was weird.” She smiled sheepishly at him. “Anyway. Shower?” Amy turned on the bedside lamp and reached for her glasses, squinting through the brightness.

 

       “Together?” Jake raised a brow, his hand on his forehead to shield from the glare of the lamp.

 

       Amy shrugged. “Unless you don’t want to.”

 

       “I want to.” Jake nodded. “Soapy boobs.” He grinned.

 

       “Alright.” Amy huffed, climbing out of bed and rolling her eyes as Jake pinched her butt and followed suit. _At least he has a quick recovery time._

 

       _____________________________

 

       Amy ran a hand through her hair and squeezed out the suds as she went. “I was thinking about something.”

 

       “That’s really specific.” Jake was leaning against the shower wall, eyes closed and head tilted against the cold tile. Amy honestly didn’t understand how men showered so quickly. She hadn’t even gotten to her legs yet and there he was all sparkly clean.

 

       “Wait. I was thinking about if we made a deal, where when I think you need to talk about what’s on your mind, I give you a penny. And- Shit.” Amy had reached for her shaving cream and razor, but they slipped from her fingers and clattered to the floor of the tub. She sat down and grabbed the two items again, squeezing a glob of the shaving foam into her hand and spreading it over her lower legs, glancing momentarily at the bruises forming on both of her wrists. _It’s a long sleeve day._  “Anyway. I give you a penny and you have to tell me exactly what you’re thinking about. But, I can only do it once a day and I swear I’ll only do it if I feel like it’s what’s best for you.”

 

       “Why a penny?” Jake asked, sitting down behind her and toying with the ends of her hair.  

 

       “Because it’s like that quote, ‘penny for your thoughts.’” She shrugged. “I don’t know. If that sounds stupid we don’t have to but I was thinking that you just have a hard time finding a reason to say what you should, and it might be easier for you if I gave you one.”

 

       “In my defense you’re not that great at talking about your feelings, either.” Jake teased, brading random strands of her hair, then undoing the work with his fingertips.

 

       “Okay, fine. We can both use the penny thing, deal?”

 

       “Deal.”

 

______________________________________

 

       “I still don’t think it was a hit. These families are close.” Jake was standing in front of his and Amy’s board, where photographs and notes were pinned seemingly randomly.

 

       “We’ve been getting rumors of fights breaking out between them since the Iannucci’s were torn down.” Amy noted, scratching at the bruises hidden beneath her long-sleeved blouse. “This might have been a result.”

 

       “But Gallo would have trusted the guy that killed him, right? If he was meeting somebody there and he was willing to turn his back to them, he trusted them. And nobody would send him to represent the family, he’s too far down on the chain.” Jake hopped up onto the desk behind him, the meeting room empty except for him and Amy. He pressed a fist to his chin, pen in-hand.

 

       “And we still haven’t found the phone,” Amy muttered to herself, drawing a star beside the surveillance footage of Gallo’s hand.

 

       “Wait.” Jake said. “I had a  crazy thought.”

 

       Amy grimaced. _Here we go._ “Shoot.”

 

       “What about the cop who found him. Could she have taken the phone?” Jake read over the file in his grip, which detailed the officer’s report. “4th is our jurisdiction and that’s a long way to go to patrol from the seven-six.”

 

       “Are you saying she could have killed him, too?” Amy raised a brow, her heart thrumming. Accusing a cop of something like this was career suicide if they were wrong.

 

       “No, she was too small to carry him and Gallo was definitely dead before she arrived. But she could be an accomplice.” Jake hopped off the desk. “I’m gonna pull up her file.” Jake walked out of the room.

       “Great.” Amy mumbled, “Perfect. Accusing cops of accomplicing a murder.”

 

       Jake was back in the room minutes later, a huge grin on his face. “Guess who’s the best detective on Earth.”

 

       “Me, because I’m not committing career suicide right now?” Amy smiled nervously and Jake clapped her on the shoulder.

 

       “Oh Ames, don’t worry. We’re committing career suicide _together_ right now _._ Look.” Jake handed her a small packet still warm from the printer. He flipped to the third page. “Smith and Gordon were written up by their CO for not reporting a relationship they had two years ago. What if Gordon was working a case on the families and it was going stale?”

 

       “Crap.” Amy groaned. “So he killed his CI to stir up trouble and Smith helped him get rid of the evidence. He would have had time to do it before leaving for his trip. But why would she affiliate herself with the body at all? Doesn’t that seem like a risky connection?”

 

       “Maybe she didn’t mean to. We only spotted her coming in through one camera, but there were three that should have seen her. She might have slipped up on her way to double-check for evidence and decided to call it in to cover her tracks.” Jake pinned her photo on the board and took a step back.

 

       “How do we know she was the one who took the phone? What if it was Gordon, _supposing_ he’s the killer.” Amy leaned back against the desk.

 

       Jake shook his head. “GPS on the phone went out at 6:32am near the warehouse and Smith found Gallo at 6:15. Gordon was already on his way to Connecticut by then.”

 

       “A funeral in New Haven honestly sounds like the most depressing thing in existence.” Amy sighed, adding a photo of Gordon from Jake’s packet to the board.

 

       “Agreed.” Jake took the packet and flipped through it again. “Amy, how long does it take to arrange a funeral?”

 

       “I’m not sure.” She shrugged, “Four days, give or take?”

 

       “So, then.” Jake flicked the page he was looking at, “Why didn’t Gordon request the time off for the trip until the day before he left?”

 

       Amy took the packet from Jake and groaned again. “God dammit, I think you’re right. I think he killed Gallo. Something must have spooked him into rushing the decision.”

 

       Jake continued to scan Gordon’s prior work schedule, brows furrowing after a moment. “Twenty-four hours before he called in for the day off, he took three hours in the middle of a shift.”

 

       “For what?” Amy asked, peering at the notes.

 

       “Let’s brief with Holt, then I’ll call the seven-six to find out.” Jake tossed the packet onto the desk and strolled excitedly out of the meeting room, Amy following suit and full of nerves.

 

______________________________

 

       “A doctor’s appointment.” Jake shouted triumphantly, hanging up the phone. “Maybe he got bad news and panicked.”

 

       “Where was the appointment at?” Amy asked, taking down notes.

 

       “The Hematology Oncology Associates of Brooklyn.” Jake said with a grin. “A cancer doctor.”  

 

       Charles, having walked by at that moment, turned white as a sheet and gripped onto Jake’s shoulders. “Jake, why do you have an oncology appointment? What’s going on? Are you sick? Oh no.” He gasped, pushing Jake down into the chair behind him. “Is it your mom? She was looking tired when I was over last week-”

 

       “What? Boyle. No. We’re working a case.” Jake paused. “Wait, why were you at my Mom’s last week? Boyle, please tell me you’re not boinking my Mom!” Jake rose to his feet and Charles stepped back, throwing his hands up.

 

       “Ha!” Rosa walked by with a snort, “Boyle’s gonna get his ass kicked for boning Jake’s mom!”

 

       “Oh my god, Boyle. That’s the bravest thing you’ve ever done.” Gina called, grabbing her phone. “Just gonna open up a new little draft here, titled ‘Eulogy of Charles Boyle.’”

 

       Charles groaned, throwing his arms up in exasperation. “I am _not_ having sex with Karen!”

 

       “Oh god, please don’t call her Karen.” Jake made a face.

 

       “We’re friends, Jake! I visited her while you were undercover and I bring her pies once a week! It’s purely platonic.” Jake made a hand motion as if to flatten out the final word, stepping back and putting his hands on his hips.

       

       “Oh.” Jake frowned. “Okay.” He gave Boyle a once-over. “Just as long as you know I wouldn’t hesitate to find a reason to throw you in prison-”

 

       “Jake!” Amy scoffed.

 

       “No, it’s alright Amy.” Charles put up a hand. “It’s flattering that he cares so much about his mom.” Boyle smiled sweetly at Jake and patted him on the shoulder, earning a shutter from the younger detective moments later.

 

       “ _Anyway,_ ” Amy drawled. “Let’s go pay Smith a visit. She’s supposed to be off and I’ve got her address. Gordon’s an hour late so we’ll just have to find him later.” Amy said, checking her watch.

 

_______________________________

 

       Mary Smith wasn’t home when Jake and Amy arrived, and two days worth of mail was piled outside her door. “She showed up for work yesterday, though.” Amy frowned.

 

       “She must be hiding out elsewhere just in case.”

 

       “Okay, so do we try Gordon’s place?” Amy asked.

 

       “I sent Rosa over there, he wasn’t home. We need figure out his boot size to see if it matches the third set of prints.” Jake made his way back down towards the stairs.

 

       “Since when are you this thorough?” Amy asked, following closely behind him.

 

       “Since this case turned into a badass rogue-cop good-cop mission. Also, I didn’t spend six months undercover to get fired three days back on the job.” Jake tugged lightly at the badge around his neck as he stepped back out onto the street.

 

       They were halfway to their car when a kid no older than twenty, skinny and unkempt, walked up to Jake with a grin. “Hey, yo, Peralta!” He clapped him on the back. Jake froze a second before easing into the touch.  “How’s it hangin’ man! Haven’t seen you in like three weeks!”

 

       “Hey Noah.” Jake smiled awkwardly, his hands beginning to tremble slightly at his sides. Amy watched him stuff them into his pockets. “Since when are you on this block?”

 

       “Man, I took it up after Leonard bit it!” Jake grimaced at the name and Noah frowned. “Hey sorry man, I forgot you were there. Brutal stuff. Anyway, can I hook you up with a little something? Same discount as before!” Noah pulled a small baggy of white powder from his pocket and Amy’s heart skipped a beat.

 

       “Uh…” Jake glanced nervously at Amy, his face pale and lips creased into a flat line. _Don’t lose it, Jake._  “Look, I had to do that to fit in with the guys, but I’m not about it.” Jake’s eyes brightened, brows raising. He steeled his jaw and mustered a smile. “Actually, I could use your help.”

       “Yeah, man. Whatever you need! You saved my ass from Leo too many times.” Noah grinned.

 

       Jake chuckled shyly. “I’d do it again. Listen, there’s a lady that lives in that building. Small, blonde-”

 

       “The cop? I know her. She tried to wrangle info out of me a few times.” Noah nodded. “She hopped in a cab last night around three. Had a big duffel bag with her.”

 

       “Shit.” Jake groaned. “Thanks, kid.” He turned to leave and stopped himself. “And Noah, just so you know, if you ever want to drop that shit, I can help. Here.” Jake pulled a receipt from his pocket and wrote his number down with shaky fingers. “I can help you get out.”

 

       “Ah, shit man.” Noah frowned. “You’re back to being a cop, aren’t you?”

 

       Jake shrugged, pointing at the obvious badge dangling around his neck. “I never stopped. By the way, this is your last warning. I’ll see you around.” He handed Noah the paper and waved, resting a hand on Amy’s back and guiding them both towards the car once again. “You’re driving.” Jake said through gritted teeth as they neared the vehicle.

 

       “Okay. Are you okay?” She asked, taking the keys from him and going around to unlock the car.

 

       “Nope.” He said through a grin.

 

       Once inside, Amy started the car and Jake bent practically in half, hands over his head. “Jake, talk to me. I don’t have a penny with me but this is my one for the day.” Amy said, resting a hand on his thigh. He jumped at the touch and she pulled back. “Sorry.”

 

       “Remember that cigar I told the squad about?” Jake asked, taking a deep breath and leaning back in his seat.

 

       “The one you finished without puking.” Amy nodded.

 

       “That and a bunch of drugs were sold to Leo and his crew by a guy named Leonard. He used to occupy that block, but Leo-” Jake took a breath. “He got cocky and Leo killed him. He was walking away and Leo just-” Jake groaned, resting his head in his hands and squeezing his eyes shut.

 

       “That’s why you were triggered at the warehouse.” Amy whispered.

 

       “Yeah.” Jake sighed, “The way his face looked. I just couldn’t pull the events apart for a second.”

 

       Amy nodded in understanding. That was something she’d experienced for herself. “How did you meet Noah?”

 

       Jake squeezed the bridge of his nose. “He was a little lower on the pole than Leo. He must have switched families when everything crashed down. He’s a nice kid, he’s just unlucky and he can’t keep his mouth shut.”

 

       “That’s why you kept coming to his rescue?” Amy asked.  


       Jake nodded. “There were a lot of people I wanted to save and I was lucky Leo grew a soft spot for me. He felt like the kid could be my prodigy. He called him ‘Little Jakey.’”

 

       Amy took a breath. “Did you do a lot of coke undercover?”

 

       Jake sighed, staring at her with big, soft eyes. “I didn’t want to. I would avoid it as often as  I could and I never started liking it. It was too stressful and I was out of control. But that was what the guys did to bond and I needed to be one of them.”

 

       “What other drugs?” Amy asked.

 

       “Nothing like meth or PCP. I did acid once, which was horrible. I still get flashbacks from that.” Jake’s nose scrunched. “We did mushrooms at a party another time. But mostly it was pot and coke. They seemed to kind of balance each other out.” Jake shrugged. “At least Leo thought so.”

 

       Amy felt her stomach clench and decided with a little bit of hesitation to even the score slightly. “I did LSD when I was sixteen.” She said, her cheeks pinking.

 

       “You? Amy Santiago tried acid?” Jake scoffed, his posture noticeably softening.

 

       “We had to do persuasive essays and the topic I was assigned was to argue in favor of LSD.” She sighed, “But I couldn’t find enough evidence to support my side. So…”

 

       “Of course. Only _you_ can find the nerdy way to do drugs.” Jake laughed. “Did you like it?”

 

       She shook her head. “It was too hard to make things logical. I didn’t know how to explain that colors had a smell.” She giggled.

 

       Jake smiled at her. “Thanks, Ames.”

 

       “For what?” She raised a brow at him.

 

       “For telling me that super secret so I would feel better.” He looked down at his lap. “The truth is, the drugs were the easiest part of being undercover. I hated them, but they weren’t hurting anyone like… Like with other things.”

 

       Amy reached for his thigh again and this time he didn’t pull away from her touch. “I think that I’ve used up my penny. Let’s go do some paperwork and put out an APB on Smith.”

_______________________________

 

       That evening was spent in Amy’s car as the two detectives scoped out Levi Gordon’s apartment. He still hadn’t been home when the two had gone to see him hours after Rosa, after crime techs did a second sweep of the warehouse at Jake’s request and found his fingerprints on the ground beside where Gallo’s body had been found. “Maybe he went back to the scene to look for something.”

 

       Amy shrugged, “But why? He had nothing physical tying him there.”

 

       “The APB on Smith could have spooked him, though.” Jake took a handful from of the pretzel bag in his lap. “If a judge approves and we get our warrants, I’m sure we’ll find the phone either way.”

 

       “Why do you think that?” Amy took a pretzel from his bag, grinning as he glared at her tiny robbery.

 

       “Because if Smith did take it, and she’s at least moderately smart, she’ll have kept it as protection in case Gordon decided to turn on her.” Jake shrugged. “That’s what I would do if you murdered somebody and roped me in.”

 

       “And you think she’s here?” Amy nodded to the building. Jake shook his head.

 

       “No, I think she might have actually run. You put out the call to local PD, right?” Jake grabbed another pretzel and popped it in his mouth.

 

       “Yeah, but we haven’t heard anyth-” Amy was interrupted by the shrill ring of her phone as the screen lit up. “It’s the Serge.”

 

       Jake plucked it from her hand to her protest, answering the call. “What up, Serge.” Jake drawled with a grin.

 

       Jake sat up in his seat, brows raising. “Where?”

 

       “What’s going on?” Amy whispered, waved off by Jake.

 

       “We know it was one of their guys?” Jake popped another pretzel in his mouth and motioned for Amy’s pencil and notepad. He began to write as he listened, handing the pad back to Amy when a page was full of his barely legible scribbles.

 

       “God your writing is horrible.” She began to scan each sentence over and over.

 

       “I have dysgraphia.” Jake hissed at her, then returned to the call. “Okay, thanks. We’ll head over there.” Jake handed her back her phone. “It says ‘body at warehouse, they think it was Gordon.’” Jake stated obviously, rolling his eyes.

 

       “Oh, god, I never would have guessed that. I thought it said something about a ‘party at westboro.’” _This is why Gina’s Jake-understanding skills are so useful._

 

       Jake turned on the car and started back towards the warehouse with a sigh. “It’s a learning disability.” He muttered, pulling up to a stoplight.

 

___________________________________

 

       When Jake and Amy arrived, the scene was crawling with crime techs and a few beat cops. Terry was hovering at the entrance to the warehouse and waved them over when he caught sight of them. The serge began to update them as soon as they were in earshot. “We’re sending a squad car over to Gordon’s to keep an eye out, but we’ve had a few CI’s saying the families are starting to fight and we need to wrap this up to avoid a war. We got an anonymous tip about our vic about an hour ago. Also,” Terry frowned. “We’ve got twelve hours before Major Crimes gets involved.”

 

       Jake groaned, running his hands through his hair. “Who’s the body?” Jake motioned to the victim beneath the black tarp behind Terry, in nearly the same spot as they had found Gallo.

 

       Terry shrugged. “My CI says he’s a low-level dealer, a kid named Noah Thompson. He worked for the Irish but supposedly transferred over fr-”

 

       Amy’s blood ran cold as Jake pushed past the sergeant and into the warehouse, sprinting the thirty feet to the body and then freezing. He stood over the tarp for several seconds and Amy watched with paralysis he squatted down onto his unsteady knees. He pulled the tarp away from the victim’s face and screamed out a string of profanities as he stood up again, pulling off his badge and chucking it across the floor. “Fuck!” He yelled.

 

       Terry glanced at Amy in shock and moved to go after Jake, who was picking up his badge and pacing, when she put a hand on his shoulder. “Let me talk to him, Serge. Noah was his friend undercover.”

 

       Amy strolled past him, her heart thudding and eyes diverting from the crime techs and cops watching Jake seethe. Jake spotted her approaching and turned on his heel to face her. “Gordon must have been watching us.” Jake’s voice was cold, his face a mixture of rage and sadness. His eyes glazed over, lip wobbling, and he sniffed, wiping at his face with an angry growl. “This is all my fault. I involved him-”

 

       “Jake, that kid was in this for himself. He knew the risks.” Amy took Jake’s badge necklace from his hand and put it over his head. “You need to get ahold of yourself so we can find Gordon. That’s the best thing we can do for Noah now.”

 

       Jake shot Amy a frown, giving her shoulders a squeeze and walking back towards Noah. Amy followed, her heart skipping a beat at the sight of the kid. He had been shot, which by the looks of it had been a blessing when Gordon was done with him. The boy’s face was wrought with blood and bruises, teeth missing from his slack mouth. But, he was still recognizable, even to Amy who had only met him once. Jake squatted down beside him again and put the tarp back over his face. “After everything I risked to keep this kid safe from thugs and mobsters, it was a fucking cop that killed him.”

 

       “I’m sorry, Jake.” Amy whispered. “But we’ll catch him.”

 

       “No we won’t.” Jake sighed, “I think I know where he is.”

 

______________________________

 

       Jake drove with the sirens on, bypassing slower cars and speeding towards Gordon’s apartment in silence. “Why are we going to Gordon’s, Jake?” Amy finally asked, her fingers gripping her seat.

 

       “I think he made the anonymous tip. If he was watching us he knew we were staking out his place, so killing- Killing Noah became a triple win. He could distract us, have somebody dead from both families to start a war, and take Noah out from being a potential witness in case Smith was caught.” Jake took a shuddered breath, gripping the steering wheel.

 

       “Distract us to go back home? Why?” Amy jumped as Jake zipped around a slow-moving Prius.

 

       “To kill himself.” Jake’s face was straight, eyes ahead. “Smith has probably skipped town, there’s nothing we can do at this point to stop the fighting between the families which means they’ll be watched and whatever he was working on-”

 

       “It’s going to crack open no matter what.” Amy sighed. “We didn’t win at all.”

 

       Jake shrugged. “Unless we can get their before he offs himself.”

 

       “But he’s dying, right? That’s why he’s doing all of this.” Amy glanced down at her lap. “Even if we catch him, he’ll be dead soon anyway-”

 

       “At least he’ll suffer!” Jake shouted. Amy’s heart pounded and she took a deep breath. His eyes were wide. “I didn’t- I didn’t mean that. I don’t think like that. Amy-”

 

       “No, you’re right Jake.” Amy nodded slowly. “He deserves to pay.”

 

       All Jake could do was gape at himself, nearing Gordon’s. “I don’t think like that.” He whispered again.

 

_____________________________________

 

       They didn’t arrive in time. Detective Levi Gordon was found in his living room, a gunshot through the head, gun clattered to the ground beside his body. Ballistics would show he had, in fact, shot and killed Gallo, Noah, and himself. Mud on his boots, which were found in his trunk and were the same size as the third prints from the crime scene, would also be a match. He was their murderer, and there he lay, in a pool of his own blood. The combined stress of his job and a brain tumor that would have killed him in weeks had sent him into a frenzy and caused him to justify his actions to himself. He left a note on his kitchen table, confessing to the crimes and claiming he had committed them alone, but a sex tape found of Gordon and Smith suggested he'd blackmailed her and was, in fact, involved. The discovery of Smith's cell phone days later would coroborate that, but she'd still be facing jail time. 

 

       Amy and Jake were initially backed up by the squad car that had been perched outside. Eventually, a new flurry of officers arrived, including Holt, who agreed to take over for them at the surprising request of Amy. She had motioned towards Jake, who was leaned against a wall, staring through everybody, pale as a sheet, and Holt had prompted them to take the following day off, but be prepared for a flurry of paperwork. She thanked him and Jake was more than willing to go.

 

       Amy coached Jake through what was either a string of panic attacks, or a single, long, attack with breaks in between. She couldn’t really tell. By the time they were home, it was one o’clock in the morning, and Jake had settled into a quieter version of himself. He took a shower and Amy pretended not to hear him sobbing. She received a text from Holt that Smith had been arrested in Connecticut. Major Crimes had officially stepped in and would be processing her. Amy decided not to tell Jake until the morning.

 

       When he came out of the shower, he looked better. His eyes were tired, but there was color in his face again. He stared at Amy from the bathroom door and she watched him approach her in nothing but a towel, making no protest when he lifted her up by the waist and kissed her furiously. She wrapped her legs around his hips and arms around his neck, carried across the room and falling with an _oof_ onto the mattress. He muttered apologies against her skin as he kissed her, nose crinkled. She ignored the tears that dripped onto her collar bone and relaxed into his touch, surprised when he pulled her on top of him and let her take the lead. She kissed him everywhere. Every scar, bump, and bruise she could see, she kissed. She held his hand and as she explored him and squeezed it when his fingers shook. She pulled off her shirt, the long sleeve she had been wearing to protect him from the bruises he’d left on her skin, and whispered that she forgave him when he took her hands up to his lips and wept little apologies into them. She was impressed that she had hid them so well.

 

       Amy rode Jake, clutching onto his shoulders and moaning as he jolted his hips up into her. He flipped them around, and she realized she hadn’t been nervous from the start. That was new for her. She let him kiss her, squeeze her, and fuck her, probably too hard. But she needed it, too. It was therapeutic after everything the day had brought. She knew that Jake would sleep well tonight, but was also sure that she wouldn’t. When she came, he groaned against her clenching body and, like the first time, increased his speed before cumming on her belly.

 

       They didn’t clean up right away. Jake laid down next to her, caressing her wrists and kissing her face patternlessly. “If I ever hurt you like this again, tell me.” He said, staring at her bruises.

 

       “Jake-”

 

       “Amy, please.” His eyes were big and penetrating and she nodded. “There’s nothing that can excuse me doing this.”

 

       “I can excuse you.”

 

       “No.” He shook his head. “If I- If I grab you like this tonight, fight me off. Please. Please. Just pull away.”

 

       “Okay.” She whispered, pressing her forehead against him. “You’re a good man, Jake.”

 

       “It’s just the right thing to do.” He whispered back.

 

__________________________

 

_Amy was in a warehouse, surrounded by beat cops and the sergeant. She was walking beside her mentee from months before, who was excited to uncover the body lying on the floor beneath the tarp and see what was in store. Amy’s heart was pounding. She didn’t like this part and didn’t like that this was territory for the Irish mob. She watched as her partner bent down, knees strong, and revealed the body underneath. His face was blown to pieces, unrecognizable. But Amy would know that hair anywhere. That leather jacket was burned into her memory and even covered in blood and mutilated, she knew she was staring down at Jake Peralta. She realized vaguely that somebody was screaming, only realized it was herself when the kid she had been mentoring blocked her from view and caught her as she fell to her knees with a strangled sob. “Jake!” She screamed. “Please, no!” Detectives and beat cops swarmed towards her, Terry at her side apologizing, saying he hadn’t seen her come in. He didn’t realize she’d been called to the scene. None of it mattered. Amy’s eyes were locked on where her best friend lay dead, his body motionless, his usually strong hands stiff and pale. “Please!” And then she just screamed. Sobbing and bellowing, the sound echoing through the warehouse and everything going dark as the Serge began to shake her shoulders. He shook her and she sobbed-_

 

       Amy woke with a cry, the room spinning, her heart pounding in her ears. There was somebody there, grabbing her, and she yelped, fighting against him until a familiar voice broke through her panic. “Santiago!” Jake was reached past her, flipping on the light and tucking her hair out of her face. “Hey!” His voice was muffled by her sobs and she fell into him, her body shaking. “It’s okay. Amy it’s okay, it’s just me. I’m not gonna hurt you.” He soothed, running a hand down her back and burying his face into her hair. “It’s okay.”

 

       She continued to sob. Her body was vibrating and she couldn’t get her breathing right. In fact, the air wasn’t coming in at all. She gasped, sobs replaced with panic. “Jake-” She wheezed, tears still streaming. She pulled away, clutched her own chest and stared at him, eyes stricken with horror. There he was, alive and well. She had forgotten. She had been so sure that time that it wasn’t a dream. “I can’t- I-” She wheezed again. Her head was thick and she was sure she was drowning. Her fingers wouldn’t stop shaking. _Why won’t everything stop shaking?_

 

       “Amy.” Jake’s voice was soft. “Amy I’m here.” He grabbed her hand and pressed it to his face. “It was just a dream. You’re safe. Take a deep breath.” He slid her hand to his chest as she had done for him and she nodded breathlessly, attempting a strangled version of her partner’s motions. His heartbeat was hard beneath against her palm and he smiled reassuringly at her. “Yeah. See? It’s okay, Amy.”

 

       Amy was still vibrating, her nerves still buzzing, but she could breathe again. “I’m-”

 

       “Let’s agree to stop apologizing.” Jake said.

 

       Amy nodded, wiping at her face. “Did you sleep at all?” She took a deep breath, shaky at best.  


       Jake nodded. “I was so worn out I didn’t even dream.”

 

       “I thought that might happen.” Amy smirked, pulling her shaking hands to her chest and taking another, stronger breath.

 

       “Is that what they’re always like for you?” Jake asked.

 

       Amy sighed. “They can get worse. Sometimes they’re easier. It depends on the subject.”

 

       “Do you dream about other things? Besides me?” Jake pulled her against his chest and laid down.

 

       Amy hesitated. “I’ll tell you eventually.”

 

       “Welcome to the party.” Jake smirked.

 

       “I’m here for you, Jake. You know that?” Amy wrapped her arm around his waist, a leg strewn over his thighs.

 

       “It’s gonna be a really long thing, Ames.”

 

       “It’s okay. We’ve got a lot of time.”

  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> I really hope you enjoyed this piece! If you read it after Penny For Your Thoughts, I'd love to hear how the pieces compared for you! If you read it before Penny for Your Thoughts and that's your next stop, enjoy! As always, my arms are open to the pointing out of any spelling, canon, or grammar errors! If you have an applicable short you would like me to add to this series or an idea for something you'd like me to do independently, comment below or message me on tumblr at abigailmaedy! This includes people who have been searching for a fanfic from another show, book, etc. I really hope you like what you read, corniness and all!


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